


Cover Story

by Suryaofvulcan



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-12
Updated: 2007-05-12
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suryaofvulcan/pseuds/Suryaofvulcan
Summary: Malcolm has a problem ... and a guilty secret.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Masturbation Month Challenge Fic 2007.  
  
I apologise in advance for the cheesy humour.  


* * *

I breathed an enormous sigh of relief as the door to my quarters finally slid shut behind me. Alone at last.

I usually enjoy my work immensely, and even become completely absorbed in it for hours on end, but sometimes travelling through interstellar space is just mind-numbingly dull, and today my bridge shift had seemed interminable. Not least because Iâ€™d been plagued throughout most of it by The Stiffy That Wouldnâ€™t Die.

It had happened about mid morning, as I catalogued what felt like my three thousandth piece of space dust. The captain had already escaped into his ready room to play with his dog, or whatever else he plays with in there, and Tâ€™Pol had shifted out of the command chair and leaned over Travisâ€™s shoulder to look at something marginally interesting on the helm control. Unfortunately that left me with an up-close-and-personal view of her luscious bum.

And up popped Little Mal, as Trip insists on calling him.

Now, normally that wouldnâ€™t have been a problem. Normally, I would just think about that icy comet that Travis and I nearly ended up trapped inside, and he would lose interest rather rapidly. Mind over matter and all that. Not today. Trip and I had been on different shifts for the last week, and my poor dick was feeling somewhat neglected. So if anything, he seemed to perk up even more at the memory of Travisâ€™s well-muscled body leaning against me as we made our way back to the shuttlepod â€¦

Iâ€™d thought I might get some respite at lunch. Or at least a chance to disappear into the loo for five minutes and take care of it. No such luck. Chef had been experimenting with alien vegetables again, and by the time I arrived all that was left was a long, thick Andorian turnip with a dab of sauce on one rounded end, and two boiled eggs nestling at the other. I thought his arrangement on the plate left something to be desired. I adjusted my uniform and turned to the desserts, but all I could find were a couple of well-rounded cream buns. Each with a cherry on top.

I sighed as I grabbed the nearest plate and found an empty table at the back of the room.

â€œNice buns, Lieutenant.â€

â€œI beg your pardon?â€ I spluttered, glancing up to see Hoshi hovering beside my table.

â€œYour lunch,â€ she clarified, pointing at my plate. â€œThe buns look nice, if not particularly healthy.â€

I think my blush reached the roots of my hair. My pubic hair. â€œOh. Yes, they are, thank you.â€

â€œWould you mind looking over this for me?â€ she said, handing me a PADD. â€œIâ€™d like a second opinion before I show it to the Subcommander.â€

â€œCertainly, Ensign,â€ I said. â€œHave a seat.â€

She put her tray down. Oh, hell, I thought, my heart sinking. Sheâ€™d chosen the turnip.

I might have been faster reading over her proposal to improve the range of the comm system by tying it into the main sensor array if I hadnâ€™t been distracted by the way Hoshi had closed her fingers around the shaft of the vegetable and slid the rounded end between her pouting pink lips â€¦

By the time Iâ€™d finished, the lunch break was over, and my dick was clamouring for attention again. Luckily our uniforms are generous enough to cover a multitude of sins. At least until I was safely seated behind my console again.

I went through the afternoon in growing discomfort, doing my best not to think about anything remotely sexual. It wasnâ€™t easy. First, I tried thinking about how to increase the yield of the phase cannons, while trying not to imagine Trip sitting astride one of them as it shot out large gouts ofâ€¦

That didnâ€™t help. 

Then I started thinking about how to improve the torpedo launching system, whether there was a way to make the torpedoes slide more smoothly into their launch tubes before shooting out into â€¦

That didnâ€™t help either.

All I could do was wait in agony until my shift was over, and then scurry as quickly as possible back to the privacy of my quarters.

I smiled to himself as I glanced around the room and noticed the rumpled bed, the bathroom door left slightly ajar and the arm of the shirt trailing out of the laundry hamper. I guessed Trip must have been in a hurry this morning. I chuckled softly, shaking my head ruefully. A year ago the mess would have driven me crazy, but Iâ€™d made up my mind when we first got together not to let the little things bother me. A few small annoyances were well worth the thrill of having Trip in my life and in my bed.

Now at last I could do something about Little Mal. For once my shift had finished on time, but I knew Trip would be on duty for at least another four hours, so unfortunately, I would need to take care of it myself. I quickly got rid of my uniform and lay down on the bed in just my blues. My hand crept down into my briefs, and I groaned a little in relief as I grasped my aching cock. I closed my eyes, trying to conjure up a suitably erotic image, preferably of a buck-naked Trip Tucker, but for all my involuntary flights of fantasy during my shift, I found I had some difficulty. I bit my lip, considering. Since Trip wasnâ€™t here, I had time to indulge in my one guilty pleasure: a fantasy I could never quite bear to let go, even after Trip and I had become a reality.

I opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand and reached underneath the pile of t-shirts for the ancient magazine I kept hidden there. I took it out and gazed at the cover for a moment. It was only a head and shoulders shot, a close-up, a taster for what was inside, but I savoured it, my eyes devouring the familiar face smiling seductively up at me; the carefully tousled honey-blond hair, the clear, ocean-blue eyes behind antique steel-rimmed spectacles, the sweeping, slightly crooked nose, the even white teeth and strong, stubbly jaw. The modelâ€™s pose was casual, head leaning on his closed fist, and my heart beat a little faster and my cock jumped as I ran my fingers over the plastic cover in which I kept my prized possession, imagining myself slipping my hand into the open collar of the checked shirt, touching warm, golden skin and soft body-hair â€¦

I slipped the magazine out of its protective plastic sleeve and laid it on the bed next to me, making myself comfortable before opening it at the correct page almost by instinct. My breathing quickened as I came to the first photograph. It was small, only a quarter page, but I studied it in any case, teasing myself, building towards the main event. The shirt was fully open this time, hanging from his shoulders as he leaned against a wall, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his button-fly jeans. I licked my lips, forcing myself to look at his face before turning to his gorgeous body. Not that it was exactly a chore. The hair, the eyes, and the clothes were all the same, but the expression was serious this time. Smouldering. And somehow the spectacles - a curiosity in my twenty-second century world - made him all the sexier, made him distinctively _not_ Trip, although in every other way they looked identical. I knew the model couldnâ€™t be Trip, of course. The magazine had been published long before he had been born, but the resemblance to my lover was uncanny.

I sighed happily as I finally allowed my eyes to roam down over the narrow strip of exposed chest and abs, over the slim hips and long, strong legs encased in figure-hugging blue jeans. I reached down between my own legs, pushing my underwear down until I could fondle my balls, and I imagined it was him doing it while I let my hands roam over all that beautiful skin, up under the shirt, pushing it down off his shoulders. I imagined brushing my fingers through that gorgeous honey-blond chest hair, his nipples hardening under my touch. I imagined licking, sucking and biting them until he moaned, and then trailing nibbling kisses down his stomach until I reached the small indentation that was his navel â€¦

Finally I groaned and turned the page to the last photo. The centrefold. This time there was no shirt. He was posed against a rocky outcrop on some anonymous shoreline, sea swirling in the background, matching his eyes. He was laughing at something happening just out of shot, his eyes sparkling and his head thrown back to expose his sinuous neck and prominent Adamâ€™s apple, clearly enjoying himself. I lost myself for a moment in the dreamy smile pulling at those luscious pink lips before returning to my appreciation of his lean, naked torso, sighing with pleasure as I feasted my eyes on his muscular arms and shoulders, his broad, furry chest, his erect, pebbled nipples and his flat belly with its fine trail of hair leading down from his navel â€¦ God, he was beautiful. Just like Trip.

And in this shot - the icing on the cake - the jeans were unbuttoned and pulled just low enough to reveal a tantalising glimpse of a sharp hip bone and a few wispy curls of pubic hair.

It was just the visual I needed; erotic without being explicit, leaving just enough to the imagination. I took myself in hand and began to stroke my cock rhythmically, squeezing the tip and smearing my own precum over myself.

â€œOh, yeah,â€ I breathed. God, it felt good. Bloody fantastic, in fact. As I increased the pace I imagined my fantasy man wrapping his lips around my dick and sucking and sucking â€¦ just the way Trip always did. Pleasure surged in my loins, and I knew it wouldnâ€™t take long. I rolled back on the messy bed, spreading my legs wide and getting both hands down into my briefs, rubbing my balls with one while I pulled at my cock with the other.

Suddenly my balls tightened, and I gasped in surprise as I came.

â€œMalcolm?â€

Fuck!

â€œTrip!â€ I gasped. â€œSorry â€¦ oh, fuck â€¦ sorry â€¦â€ I lurched upwards onto my knees and began to scrabble around, trying to clear away the evidence of what Iâ€™d been doing, unable to look my lover in the eye. My hands and my t-shirt were covered in my own cum, and I was suddenly ashamed of my lack of self-control.

â€œMal â€¦ hey, Mal,â€ he said softly. â€œItâ€™s okay. Stop that.â€ He came over and sat on the bed beside me, catching my hands, forcing me to sit still and face him. â€œListen to me. Itâ€™s okay. Itâ€™s nothing to be ashamed of.â€

I sighed, finally meeting his gaze. â€œI know. It was just â€¦ I didnâ€™t want you to see it.â€

He broke into a slow, sexy grin. â€œWhy not? It was â€¦ pretty damn hot.â€

I smiled back, still a little self-conscious. â€œWhat are you doing here anyway? Your shift canâ€™t be over yet.â€

â€œI got off early.â€ He chuckled. â€œGuess you did too.â€

I groaned at the terrible pun.

â€œWhatâ€™s that?â€ he said, glancing over my shoulder.

Oh, fuck. The magazine. It was still open at the centrefold.

He leaned over and picked it up, and then let out a low whistle. â€œUsing a visual aid, huh?â€

I stared at the bedcovers, picking at them nervously.

â€œThis is â€¦ Mal, where did you get this?â€

â€œTraded for it on Ebay,â€ I muttered.

â€œThis is incredible,â€ he said. I could hear his excitement in his voice. â€œMal, I think this might be my great grandfather. Thereâ€™s a family legend he was one of the great underwear models of his time, and I did hear tell Iâ€™m supposed to look a bit like him.â€

â€œMore than a bit,â€ I supplied. Iâ€™ll admit, I was feeling a little queasy at the thought that I might have been fantasising over one of my loverâ€™s ancestors. I quelled it quickly. Iâ€™d chosen those pictures because they looked like Trip, not the other way around.

â€œSo what made you come home early?â€ I said, changing the subject.

He looked a little sheepish. â€œIâ€™ve had this â€¦ little problem all day.â€

I glanced down and noticed the bulge in his groin for the first time. I grinned back up at him, licking my lips in anticipation.

â€œWell, letâ€™s just see what we can do about that,â€ I murmured as I slid down and knelt between his legs.

 

~end~


End file.
